Predator's Kiss (13 page)

It was the greatest feeling in the world. And he’d given it to her. The most selfless thing anyone had ever done for her.

As her first orgasm in too long faded away, to be sealed up forever in her memory bank, Lia collapsed onto the floor, her eyes closed. Strong hands reached under to pick her up. He brought her over to the bed and tucked her in.

There was a soft kiss on her forehead. She opened her eyes for one brief moment and smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said, feeling her heart burst. Almost seeing the invisible cord wrapped around the two of them, joining them, even if Ryland didn’t see it yet himself.

Her body felt spent. Unable to fight the downward rush, she closed her eyes again and waited for Ryland to join her in bed.

When he didn’t, moving instead over to the couch, Lia gulped down a disappointment that felt like razors going down, cutting into her flesh.

He didn’t want to sleep with her either. Just like Rick.

What a fool she was, thinking the man might want to cuddle after giving her the most life-altering moment she’d ever had. As she listened to him turning on the TV, as she heard the little zing of the remote switching on, she felt something pop inside her. And it hurt more than anything, more than all of Rick’s rejections and betrayals.

Ryland Snow didn’t really care about her. He’d just wanted to see her get off.

He’d called her “baby.”

He was a liar.

Squeezing a tear out between her eyelids, Lia stifled a cry and burrowed deep inside the covers. The wetness on her inner thighs was like a fresh wound, stinging, and she wanted to wipe it away. She squeezed her legs together, hoping to forget the evidence of her delirious pleasure. Biting her lip and swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried hard to fall asleep.

* * * *

Ryland sat on the couch. Frozen to his spot. Hands shaking. His eyes glued to the TV, but not seeing the infomercial advertising a knife that would cut through cans as well as tomatoes.

His thoughts tormented him, barreling through his mind with furious speed.

What’s wrong with me? And what kind of man finger-fucks a woman under his protection?
He’d never lost it like that in his entire life, even though he’d been with a number of pretty women.

His eyes focused on the television, Ryland wondered. God only knew he was desperate to turn around, race into the bedroom, and wake Lia in a way she’d never forget. She’d been so beautiful in that moment when she’d come for him. So bloody grateful, even though it was his heart that was filled to bursting with fucking gratitude.

As he’d slid his eager fingers inside her, almost touching her soul, he’d never felt so connected to another living being. He wanted to explore what was happening more than he’d ever wanted anything.

Even though her scent was already ingrained in him, for his olfactory sense was his keenest, he brought his shaking hand up to his nose and drank in her intoxicating perfume.

She’s our mate
.

The words slammed into his skull, demanding to be heard. He whipped his hand from his nose and shoved it under his leg, the one that was nervously wobbling up and down on the couch cushion.

What kind of crap was that? But as much as he refuted the unexpected words, he couldn’t deny the primal force of the voice speaking them.
His
inner voice. A voice that had never spoken up with such passion.

What the hell? His body felt cold. Surely his blood had turned to ice. It was why he’d had to leave Lia alone on the bed. He couldn’t face her like this. She’d think he was a basket case. If he didn’t remove himself from her vicinity, he just knew he’d do something stupid, like get down on one knee before her and beg her to run to Vegas with him.

He’d had to step away. Far, far away. Outer fucking Mongolia would have been nice, but he’d had to settle for the couch.

He couldn’t forget her reaction. He’d witnessed her intense pleasure, so powerful it could have been supernatural, and he’d realized something. He’d made her happy in that moment. And nothing in that incredible interlude had been more important than making Lia happy.

She’s our mate, you ass
. Once again, the words echoed in his ear, sounding from the invisible, impatient voice.

How was this supposed to work, even if he wanted it to work? His brother was breathing down his neck. He had strange men loitering in his resort. A stalker possibly hunting for Lia. And God knew what else.

And so, not knowing what to do, Ryland sat on the couch. And stared, unseeing, as the knife sliced through the tomatoes.

* * * *

Ryland left his suite early the next morning, and tried really hard to tell himself it wasn’t because he was trying to escape Lia’s reproach. Not that he believed she’d say anything about his unwillingness to canoodle in bed. He just couldn’t bear to see any hurt in her eyes, couldn’t bear to hear silence between them.

Plus, he’d gotten no sleep and knew he must resemble a hairy zombie … in a plaid shirt.

He posted a couple of his security staff outside the suite and made his way to reception. The day was made even more joyous when he spotted yet another horde of Soren fans harassing Marci. Cursing his luck, and heaping a few curses on his brother to boot, he joined his frazzled clerk and made the Soren-crazed ladies disperse.

Once the situation was handled, he hid in his office and attempted to answer a few e-mails.

Within minutes, Soren had barged in. Ryland looked up. “What do you want?”

Soren looked offended. “Jesus H. Christ, Ryland. You are one ornery dude.” He plunked his big frame into the chair opposite Ryland. “Have you ever considered anger management?”

“Don’t start with me, Soren,” he warned. “Not today.”

Soren arched a blond eyebrow. “Why not today, specifically?” He considered, drumming one finger on his temple with dramatic flourish. “Hmm. Is it because the lovely Lia shared your room last night? Are we hot and bothered?”

He had no idea. “When are you leaving anyway?”

Soren deadpanned, “You know, your familial affection knows no bounds.” He fidgeted in his seat for a moment, chewing on his fingernail. “Actually, I’ve been thinking. I really should get out of your hair. You were right, Ry. It was selfish of me to drag you and your lodge into my problems. You have a lot going on here and I don’t want to mess anything up for you. I’ll get my stuff together and go.” He stood.

“No, wait.” Ryland motioned for Soren to sit again, and he did. “Where do you plan to go?”

Soren shrugged. “I haven’t been to New York in a few months. My apartment there could probably use an airing out. I’ll crash there.”

Damn. Normally Ryland would be doing jumping jacks at the news his brother was looking to escape. But this time, he didn’t want Soren to go. He might be perpetually pissed off at him, but he was still his brother. His little brother. Well, his younger brother anyway.

The one who was convinced a hit man was after him.

Ryland sighed. No, it was better Soren stick around. His time with Lia was obviously muddling his mind, making him think bizarre things. Like wanting to keep family close. “Look, Soren. You might be a pain in my ass, but you’re my brother. And with Mom and Dad corrupting all the aging hippies in Victoria with their weed, we need to stick together. I hate to say it, but your problem is my problem, little brother.”

Soren stared, his blue eyes wide with awe. “Uh, okay. Thanks.” He looked away, and then returned his dumbstruck gaze to Ryland’s face. “But do you mind if I ask what brought on this change of heart?”

“I don’t know,” he said as he ran a hand over his unshaved jaw. “I’ve just been feeling a little protective lately. I know it’s not like us to hang out and do shit together, but I’ll cover your ass if you cover mine.”

“Sure.” Soren’s lip twitched into a half smile. “I’ll be happy to cover Lia’s ass too.”

“Soren, let me make myself perfectly clear,” Ryland threatened in a deceptively amiable tone. “From this point on, you don’t even get to
look
at Lia’s ass.”

Soren backed down, as if seeing a new light in Ryland’s eyes. “Okay, Chief.”

Ryland thought of her, remembered the unique timbre of her sweet, passionate cries, and was stymied at the instant, debilitating power she had over him. “Bro, have you ever felt … mated to someone?”

Soren blanched and his shoulders jerked as if he were about to lose his lunch. “Mated? By all that’s holy, no way! Isn’t the whole mate bond thing just myth anyway? Superstition?”

“I don’t know. Is it?”

“Well, damn,” Soren uttered as realization sank in. “You feel mated to Lia!” He stared and then true realization smacked him across the face. “Oh my God, you fucked her!”

Ryland winced. “Seriously, dude. You gotta stop with all the fucks.”

Soren’s face broke into a huge, randy grin. “I don’t know whether to congratulate you or take a hit out on
your
ass. You lucky son of a bitch.”

“I didn’t … take her to bed,” Ryland whispered. “But stuff happened. And Soren, I feel so weird. Like someone has ripped my heart out and shoved it back in the wrong way.”

“Or maybe the right way?”

“She’s human. And on the run. Her life is a mess. What am I supposed to do? Ask her to marry me so she can live here in the woods that she hates so much?”

At the word “marry” a visible shiver passed through Soren’s body. “Well, I guess the first step is to keep her here for a while so you can figure this out. But Ry, whether the mate thing is a myth or not, it’s serious business. They say there’s no going back once you acknowledge your true mate.”

“This, from the shifter historian.”

Soren arched an eyebrow at him. “What do I know?” From under his arm, he pulled a book Ryland hadn’t noticed previously, and laid it on the desk before him. “Oh, I thought you might want to read this.”

Ryland stared at the book. It was a large paperback with a sensual image of two bodies entwined on the cover, those of a buff man and a beautiful woman. The title read,
Love in Chains
. Many pages were dog-eared.

Soren actually blushed as he pushed it toward his brother. “Oh, ignore the highlighted sections. Those were just for my reference.” He stood up again. “Listen, I’m gonna go make some calls to friends and see if I can suss out this Valdez situation. Maybe check in with Gina. Make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s married,” Ryland reminded him with a glare.

Soren took a step backward. “Just to talk. No phone sex. Promise.” He nodded toward his brother. “You okay?”

Ryland picked up Lia’s book. “Yeah.”

Soren headed to the door. “And Ry? You really should talk to Lia. Maybe she feels the same way. Maybe she’s always envisioned herself marrying a man in a plaid tuxedo.”

Ryland shook his head, wondering if it was too late to tell his brother to get the hell off his island.

As Soren touched the doorknob, someone else knocked on the other side of the door. Soren opened it and came face-to-face with his old girlfriend Donna Moore.

“Oh, Donna, hi there,” he stammered. “Wow. Fancy meeting you here.”

She swallowed. “Soren. It’s been a long time.”

He eyed her stained cleaning lady outfit. “You look nice.”

Her eye twitched. “Thank you.” She turned to Ryland. “I, uh, Marci asked me to bring these reports to you.” She handed the papers to Ryland and made a quick exit. “Nice to see you, Soren. Bye, Ryland.”

“Bye, Donna,” Ryland said quietly.

“Shit,” Soren said quietly after she’d disappeared. “What happened to her?”

“Life happened,” Ryland answered, defensive again. “Not everyone lives in the fast lane, big shot.”

“Hmm. We used to skip school and make out in one of the caves on the island. We had fun together. Is she happy?” Soren asked, as he made a meal of yet another fingernail.

“As happy as she can be with a couple of kids and a husband who drinks.”

Soren stared into the hallway where Donna had disappeared, and Ryland realized he’d never seen his brother look quite so sad. It was a new look for Soren. However, after a moment, his brother shook it off. “I’ll catch you later.” He took off down the hall in the opposite direction from Donna.

Ryland stared at the book on his desk.
Love in Chains
. He felt as if
he
were in chains.

She’s our mate. Stop kidding yourself, you mountain-sized moron
.

He dismissed his inner voice and picked up Lia’s book. He thumbed through a couple of pages, not really reading, until a few words caught his attention.

“
Claudio stared at the sleeping Lady Adelaide, tucked as she was against his bulkier form. So trusting. So sweet. He knew he could do anything to her, and she wouldn’t object. And he would do such things to her. He wouldn’t hurt her, could never hurt her, but would show her in no uncertain terms that she was his. Only his. Now and forever. His one true mate
.”

Ryland started, seeing the word “mate” in print. And as he read on, and discovered exactly how Claudio awakened Adelaide, his eyes almost bugged out.

Ryland shut the book and looked up at door. “Well,” he said, completely and painfully aroused. “Fuck me.”

He got up and left, needing to see Lia again. Quite desperately.

* * * *

Lia yanked her backpack tightly over her shoulder and stormed down the hallway toward the reception area. It hadn’t been easy convincing those two shifters outside the door to let her out. Ryland had obviously told them to keep an eye on her. However, when she’d grown furious and began dropping terms like “imprisonment” and “enforced confinement,” the men had become uneasy and had let her out.

There was no way in hell she was staying on Gemini Island another day … or night. With him.

The Yukon was starting to look really good.

She turned a corner in the hotel hallway and a shot rang out. Lia froze as a burning sensation assaulted her left arm, right in the fleshy part behind her bicep. She held up her arm and looked at it, only to see a trail of blood dripping onto the carpeted floor.

She’d been shot. With a gun yet!